Stranger

What a stranger you are, The way you speak, And say my name, I get weak in the knees; I don’t even know your name. That foreign attitude, the hurt in your eyes— Just like the aftertaste, it’s here and gone. Summer is ending, but I don’t think it’s the same; Even if you walk away, it can’t be just done, Not like a paperback novel because you’ve got me Stepping on every page and stumbling in every word. You’re the salt in sugar, but everyone needs salt sometimes. I don’t want to say used-to-be or once-upon-a-time; Let’s give this story a happy ending and give it a name.

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